A Different Kind of Love
by perchance to wake
Summary: An unlikely friendship born of convenience, childish squabbles and silly games. But they were there for each other when no one else was. They'll stick together, through everything. AU. Blaine/Quinn friendship. Blaine/Kurt romance.
1. A Simpler Time

_General Disclaimer_: I do not own these characters. If I did, things would've gone a lot differently :P

Spoilers for... well, everything, probably. At least up to 'Prom Queen'.

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><p><strong>A Different Kind of Love<strong>

_Chapter 1: A Simpler Time_

It was good neighbourhood, for Lima. Large, fancy, suburban houses. Clean, quiet streets. Almost idyllic, really.

Until a little girl's enraged shriek split the air.

"Blaine! Give it back!"

An elderly couple sitting on their porch exchanged exasperated looks.

"I swear that girl's either going to completely deafen me with those lungs of hers," the old man complained. "Or else kill the Anderson boy. Whichever comes first."

His wife smirked, the saggy skin of her cheeks suddenly slightly lifted, and her eyes twinkling in amusement.

"I like to think they'll work out their differences. Perhaps it's a blossoming romance," she said.

The man rolled his eyes. "I think you've gone batty in your old age." This earned him a slap on the arm. "It's more like a blossoming homicide."

"You know I like my romances," she said huffily. "I think it would be a nice story, if they fell in love. Timeless."

"Yes, dear," he said, tiredly.

When they heard a little boy yelping in pain moments later they both stifled a smirk.

"Blaine, what are you doing?"

A little curly-headed boy was sulking on the back step of his house when his mother found him, occasionally throwing glares at the yard beside theirs.

"Lucy won't let me play with her dolls," he whined. He then added, "And she hit me."

"That's because they're hers, darling. Besides, you know that dolls are for girls. Why don't you go play with that new football that your father bought you?"

The boy shook his head stubbornly, so his mother sighed and went back inside.

"Blaine?" called a girl's voice, nearby.

"What?" Blaine answered moodily.

"Come back? Come on... I'm sorry I hit you."

"Hmmph."

"Please? I'm bored."

He seemed to struggle internally for a moment, before plaintively asking, "Can I play with Ken and Barbie this time?"

There was silence for minute before the girl responded. "Fine. Yeah, you can play with them."

"You said that last time."

"I promise, OK! Now stop being such a baby."

"I'm not a baby!"

"Fine, you're a little _girl_."

"I'm not a girl! You're a girl!"

"... Yes, Blaine. I know I'm a girl." Her tone was dripping with disdainful superiority. "You're so stupid."

"I don't think I want to play any more." Petulant.

"Ugh, just come on!"

"... Fine."

He got up and wandered over to the back of the yard, and squeezed through a gap between the fence and the hedge.

A little brown haired girl smirked at him smugly. "I knew I could get you to come back."

Blaine made a face. "Stop, Lucy. What did you want to play?"

She grabbed his hand and led him over to a picnic blanket spread out on her neatly-mown lawn. They were soon playing games, games about love and adventure and dragons and big cities and history and fairy tales and marriage. They fought every hour or so, which usually ended with Blaine getting a slap, and then leaving in a huff until Lucy apologised and allowed Blaine to be Barbie in the next game. She had to snatch Ken from his hand one time because Blaine wanted him to marry one of his Power Rangers. One of the _boy_ Power Rangers. Which just didn't work, obviously. She handed him Barbie instead, and told him that _now_ it was all right. Boys could be so oblivious.

Such friendships are born of geographical convenience. But one could argue that brotherhood, sisterhood, is the same. Blood makes no difference, gender doesn't. Religion, sexual preference, differences in personality... they don't necessarily have to matter either. It comes down to the person who knows you better than anyone else, who's been there through good times and bad, someone who, despite some bumps in the road, will always accept you.

Blaine Anderson and Lucy Fabray will never be in love, as the old man had told his wife repeatedly. But she was right that behind the squabbles, there was love, just of a different kind.

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><p>AN: Please let me know what you think!

Overall, I'm not really a fan of Quinn's "new" backstory, as I think it kind of kills her old character development. But it fits in so well with this story... ;)


	2. No Longer Simple

**A Different Kind of Love**

_Chapter 2: No Longer Simple_

_Lucy found Blaine after school. He was sitting in his backyard, against the tree, his knees up to his chest and his face hidden._

_While she tended to provoke him a lot, she felt uneasy when she heard him actually crying._

"_Blaine?" she said, hesitantly._

_He ignored her._

"_Blaine, are you OK?"_

"_No," he croaked, his voice raspy from the tears._

"_Oh."_

_She sat down next to him, and said no more. Because she didn't know what to say._

_Eventually he broke the silence._

"_Lucy," he began, hesitantly, his voice clearer than before, "do you think I'm... girly?"_

"_Of course I do, I tell you that every day," she said matter-of-factly._

"_Right." He sounded so... defeated. She frowned. Whatever she might say, she liked Blaine. And some part of her _really_ didn't like seeing him cry like this. She slowly put an arm around him and gave him a hug._

"_Why are you asking?" she said softly._

"_Jim said it today, after class. He said I was nothing but a sissy and a girl, because I like dolls and stories about princesses and stuff."_

_Lucy huffed. "Jim's just stupid. He only likes football and Pokemon and things like that. Everyone knows that stories about princesses are the best kind, and dolls are way cooler than football." _

"_Really?" said Blaine, hopefully. "But I thought you said I was a girl."_

"_I said that because you were whining, not because you like dolls," she explained. His face fell slightly, and she hastily added, "But it's practically a compliment. I mean, I'm a girl. Girls are great." He smiled slightly. "Anyway, I love playing dolls with you. That's why you're my best friend."_

"_I-I'm your best friend?" Blaine asked, wiping the tears from his cheeks._

"_Well, yeah. But that doesn't mean you aren't annoying!" she hastily added._

_Blaine threw her a blinding smile. "OK! You're my best friend too." His expression turned thoughtful. "But you're kind of annoying as well."_

_She shoved him, but he didn't look that upset this time. He poked her in the stomach in retaliation, and then ran off before she could exact her revenge. She ran after him, laughing between fake shrieks of rage._

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><p>Quinn Fabray was arguably the Queen Bee of McKinley High School in Lima. In fact, she would be the one arguing this. She revelled in her title of Head Cheerleader, Top Bitch. Those who didn't like her respected her. Those she thought might have something she didn't... she crushed them.<p>

But this attitude was hidden under a façade of innocence, religion and beauty. If she wanted something from you she was as sweet as pie. Adults thought she was simply _charming_. She came from such a good family. She was loved and supported by her parents, who marvelled at their ability to raise such a perfect daughter, such a prime example of Christian goodness. She did well in her classes. Her two best friends were both cheerleaders, who followed the stereotype of a Girl Posse. She had Santana, the second-in-command, also a complete bitch according to many, and regarded as a slut by all, and proud of it. And Brittany, the Ditz. Who was, oddly enough, incredibly sweet and kind. Everything Quinn pretended to be. Quinn actually did like Brittany, though she wouldn't ever admit to hostile feelings towards anyone. Brittany was genuine, if a little... off.

Quinn had the perfect boyfriend. Popular, handsome football player Finn Hudson. Slow, but sweet. Rather like Brittany but... less so. A bit brighter than _that._ A little less sweet, too. But this worked well for Quinn, as it meant that Finn could go ahead tossing people into dumpsters with Puck and the guys, and Quinn could continue defacing the bathrooms with cruel comments about people she didn't like.

Quinn Fabray made a habit of going on to MySpace every day to check all her friends' profiles. And her enemies'. Especially Rachel Berry's. Rachel Berry... was annoying. And talented. And parented by two fathers, which gave Quinn _plenty _of ammunition.

No one knew quite why she would hate Rachel Berry so much. And she would never admit her real reasons. She simply said that Rachel was practically a freak of nature, and needed to know that. Needed to at least _try_ and be normal. Needed to stop being so pathetic. That Quinn was helping her, really.

Quinn would never tell anyone that she had once been named Lucy. That she had been friendless, unpopular. That she had considered herself ugly.

No one would know that she had a real best friend, who knew everything about her past, who accepted her.

A best friend who was a short, overly-enthusiastic, ridiculously polite, _gay_ nerd.

She could only hope that no one ever discovered this.

Unfortunately for her, things were about to get more complicated.

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><p>Blaine Anderson wasn't happy at his school, to say the least. If you asked him, he wouldn't get into the details, simply stating "taunting" in a vague manner, but the truth was that he desperately needed to go somewhere where he was wanted. Somewhere safer. His mother wanted him to go to Dalton Academy, but his father said that he wouldn't pay for it.<p>

"You're living in Lima right now, aren't you?" John Anderson had sneered at his ex-wife. "The boy can stay with you and go to the school there."

Blaine's mother hesitated. She knew that a new school like the old one wouldn't help anything.

But then Blaine had piped up, miserably, from the living room, where he had been sitting throughout the entire the argument, trying not to feel horribly resentful as his parents decided his future.

"Quinn – I mean, Lucy Fabray goes to McKinley in Lima. I could go there."

"See? Maybe that girl could try and persuade him to be normal," John insisted.

It had been decided. Blaine Anderson would go to Lima.

The first person he met on his first day was a boy climbing out of a dumpster.

"Are you OK?" he asked, reaching out a hand to grasp the one scrabbling at the edge.

"I'm fabulous, actually," said the other boy sarcastically, cautiously pulling on the offered hand and heaving himself out.

He wiped himself down as he picked up a - was that Marc Jacobs? - jacket from where it had been discarded, carefully replacing it on his shoulders.

Blaine just stared. The boy in front of him was so... well, fashionable - pretty, even. Slightly baby-faced, but in a rather angelic way. But the angelic image was ruined slightly by the incredibly haughty expression on his face and the suspicion in his hard grey eyes as he caught Blaine staring.

"What?" he asked.

"What?" repeated Blaine stupidly before flushing in embarrassment. "Oh, sorry. How did you get in there?"

"Some morons who dislike my impeccable fashion sense threw me in," the boy explained off-handedly, no real emotion showing on his face.

"Ah, I see," said Blaine awkwardly, unsure of how to respond to this.

"Thank you, by the way," the boy said, suddenly. "For helping me out."

"Oh! You're welcome. Um... I don't suppose you could show me to the principal's office? I'm new here."

The boy shrugged, "OK. Follow me."

"Thanks! My name's Blaine." He held out his hand.

The boy looked at it in surprise for a second, before shaking it. "Kurt." Something almost like a genuine smile graced the boy's lips, and Blaine smiled back.

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><p>AN: Please let me know what you think ;) Thanks to those who reviewed, you guys made my day :)


	3. A Quest

_Age 8_

"_Do you wanna play the Lion King?"_

_Lucy rolled her eyes. "_God_, Blaine. The Lion King isn't a princess movie."_

"_Well, it's a prince movie! Kinda. But with lions," he reasoned._

"_I don't want to play the Lion King. There are no good girl parts."_

"_Yeah there are! Nala's cool. She totally kicks Simba's butt. Like, twice! 'Sides, you can be one of the boy characters. Like Scar!"_

"_Ew! Why would I want to play the creepy, evil lion who dies in the end?"_

"_Um... because it's fun?"_

"_How is that fun?"_

"_Alright, _fine_. You can be Simba, and I'll be Scar, OK?" Blaine was looking a little peeved. "Even though you _always_ get to be the main characters."_

"_Well _I_ wanted to play a princess movie," she responded, tossing her brown hair over her shoulder haughtily. "And if I'm going to have to be the boy, I should at least get to be the _nice_ one."_

"_Then how come I never get to be Cinderella? I always end up as the Fairy Godmother..."_

"_But you also play the prince."_

"_He's only there like twice! In the whole movie! The rest of the time I'm the mice and the Godmother."_

_Lucy shrugged. "Say lavvy."_

_Blaine frowned in confusion. "What?"_

"_That's what my mom says when she means 'sucks to be you'."_

"_... Thanks, Lucy. Are we at least making cupcakes later?"_

"_Yeah, OK."_

"_Can I lick the batter of the spoon?"_

"_Yes, Blaine. You can lick the spoon."_

"_Yay!"_

oooOOOooo

"Anyways, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission ... quest ... thing!" ~ Pippin, _The Lord of the Rings_

__oooOOOooo

His old school had been hell. Filthy, stinking, chaotic and crowded, it was filled with people who either didn't care if he lived or died, or else wanted to kill him themselves.

Yet he found himself wishing, just for a moment, that he was back there. For, while it was hell, it was a familiar hell. He knew shortcuts to get to classes, what bathrooms he could hide in, which students would trip him in the corridors and which would just ignore him.

Here, everyone was a potential threat, and unknown quantity. A feeling of dread was uncurling in his gut, getting stronger each time he caught sight of the red and white of a Letterman jacket.

And he didn't know how to find Quinn. He kept catching himself looking for brown hair and glasses, as he had every lunch break in middle school, even though he knew Quinn was blonde, now. And a cheerleader, which was surreal – Quinn had the least school spirit of anyone he knew, possibly even himself.

"Watch it, hobbit!" a passing jock snapped, shoving Blaine out of his way. Blaine barely managed to avoid falling to his knees. His balance regained, he took a slow, deep breath to quell the reflexive panic that had briefly arisen.

And then he saw her. A tall, blonde cheerleader. Quinn. She was at her locker, her back to him. He hurried over.

"Quinn?" he said tentatively.

She turned around. It wasn't Quinn. Figured. Blonde cheerleader was apparently a stereotype for a reason.

"Sorry," said Blaine, quickly. The last thing he needed was some cheerleader angry at him. Their boyfriends were generally big, scary and, well, didn't like Blaine. "I thought you were someone else."

She stared at him blankly for a moment. "Are you a hobbit?"

"Um, no..." he answered. People had called him 'hobbit' many times before. But her tone was throwing him off, slightly. She didn't _sound_ like she was mocking him, but like she was genuinely curious. Which was more than a little weird.

"Are you sure? Because Santana says Rachel Berry should never find another hobbit to mate with, but I think you two would make really cute hobbit babies," said the girl serenely. Her vacant stare and _incredibly_ weird words were freaking him out.

"I, uh... thank you," he said.

"Why were you looking for Quinn, Mary?"

"My name's Blaine," he answered, frowning. Calling him a girl's name. Original.

"But in the movie that hobbit was named Mary..."

Blaine figured she was talking about Merry, in Lord of the Rings. But he had a feeling that correcting her on that point would just lead to his name permanently being Merry. The girl seemed more than a little insane, so he'd sacrifice his impulsive need to correct nerdy references for a normal name.

"I'd much rather you call me Blaine," he told her, slowly.

"OK! If you want. Do you want me to find Quinn for you, Blaine?"

Blaine suppressed his sigh of relief, at both the use of his actual name, and the fact that this girl knew Quinn."That would be nice, thank you."

"Like a quest, right?"

"Um, yeah?"

"Well, when I see her in Cheerios later I'll tell her that a hobbit named Blaine was looking for her, OK?"

"... Thanks."

"Great! I have to go now and ask Santana if Africa exists. My geography teacher said to wasn't a real country, but I thought it was..."

"Right... Well, nice talking to you …?"

"Brittany."

"Lovely to meet you, Brittany." And then he made a rapid retreat.

If everyone in this school was like that, he'd probably be perfectly fine, on the bullying front. Just permanently confused.

He eventually found his French classroom, and peeked inside to see that most of the class were already seated. But he smiled when he saw the boy from that morning, Kurt, next to an empty chair. Maybe he'd be able to make a new friend. He wondered if the boy knew Quinn.

oooOOOooo

One of the girls had her laptop with her in school, and Quinn was using the brief absence of Coach Sylvester to browse MySpace and laugh over the delusional aspirations of Berry with her friends.

"She looks like a dwarf," commented Santana. "I'd bet she has to shave every morning to keep the moustache from taking over her face."

The other girls tittered appreciatively, and Quinn smiled at Santana. But then Brittany piped up from her other side.

"Rachel Berry's a dwarf? I thought you said she was a hobbit... I told that other hobbit this morning that he would be able to have babies with her. He'll be so sad." Brittany actually looked very disappointed about this.

"Other hobbit? Dear Lord save us all," said Santana drily.

"Yeah! He was really sweet. I thought his name was Mary, but he says it's not. Actually, he was looking for you, Quinn! I forgot to tell you."

"A hobbit was looking for me?" asked Quinn, her perfect brow creasing slightly in confusion. Normally she ignored Brittany's borderline-insane comments, but something was niggling at the back of her mind.

"Yes! He thought I was you at first, but I wasn't..."

"I'm not sure I want to know why a hobbit was looking for me," said Quinn, tossing her hair haughtily. "I have better things to do." She typed another comment under Rachel's video. Advice to get sterilized, actually. Couldn't take any chances.

"But he was really sweet... he didn't even laugh at me. He said his name's Blaine, but I really wanted to call him Mary, because I think it's a much prettier name, but he seemed upset when I called him that, so—"

"Wait, what did you say his name was?" asked Quinn, whipping her head around to stare at her friend.

"Mary," said Brittany matter of factly, and then quickly added, "but he wants to be called Blaine."

"I have to go," said Quinn, shoving the laptop back at Courtney, who dropped it. But Quinn wasn't even listening to the indignant "Hey!" that accompanied the possible destruction of a rather expensive laptop. She was already rushing out of the gym. And she looked angry.

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: WOW was this delayed. I'm very sorry. I wish I could blame work (which I had a lot of) but I did have quite a bit of time where I was doing nothing, and could have procrastinated through this, but - alas - I did not.

Now, Quinn's season 3 insanity... I think this could still work. I think she's like that because she feels alone. So I'm gonna tone down the crazy, and feel justified because she has Blaine. Yup.

Because season 3 Quinn quite honestly scares me. She's willing to get a woman arrested for child abuse, simply for daring to adopt a baby that was _put up for adoption_. Um, what the hell?

I love Brittany. If you couldn't tell.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! The more recent ones were quite a surprise, and really reminded me that I should write more of this, becaus I do still have loads of ideas for it.


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